Lord and Mistress
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: When Chronos overestimates his capabilities and ends up exhausted, Milla's solution to recharging his lost mana ends up leaving an impression, to say the least… and Muzét is certainly not helping. The strangest thing I've ever written. Genres are complete guesses. Rated M because I seriously don't know what else to do with it. I do not own Tales of Xillia or the cover art!


_I am not kidding. This is seriously _the_ weirdest thing I have ever written and probably shouldn't even be a thing. Don't say I didn't warn you. (That said, I regret nothing.)_

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><p>Strictly speaking, time meant nothing to a being such as Chronos—but he could say with certainty that it had been a very long millennium.<p>

It had taken one thousand years to undo all the damage the humans had done. _One thousand years_! Half the time the humans took to make their colossal mess had been taken up with fixing it. That even took into account the destruction of the fractured dimensions and thus the removal of most of the souls. How could Origin still love humanity when they had done this to him?!

But at least Chronos and Origin had been able to seal away the miasma. The Gate of Judgment clicked open; they were free. How Origin had survived the trial for two thousand years, bearing all this pain alone, was beyond him. The miasma surrounded them constantly, attacking their very identities; simply _existing_ hurt…

"Chronos," said Origin gently, standing before him, and he looked up—the nightmare clearing itself from his eyes. "Thank you. Your assistance is more than I can ever repay." Origin offered him a sincere and contented smile, the only reward Chronos needed, and he shook his head by way of acceptance.

"But," he continued, though his smile did not disappear, "the world has needed you these past thousand years." Chronos's eyes widened; he knew what _that_ meant, remembering suddenly his words from a millennium ago: _Your Trial has not yet ended_. His apparently hadn't either.

"Origin," he sighed, unable to suppress the plea in his voice. The last thing he wanted was to have to live through the same thousand years again—not that he couldn't flick back and forth between them if he so desired, but that was widely regarded among spirits as cheating.

Origin rested a hand on his shoulder, and Chronos searched his face dully, knowing all the while that he was right; the world could not function without a being to guide time forward—he just didn't want to have to be the one to look after it. "We'll meet again," he promised softly, solemnly. "Whenever you like. I'm sure it will be soon, for me."

"As you wish," muttered Chronos reluctantly, closing his eyes. His whole being ached to use artes he had not practiced in a thousand years, but there was a kind of soothing familiarity in the mental motion of turning back the imaginary clock. Though he couldn't help but wince, his soul rejoiced to use its power again…

…Until he remembered the hard way that he was by no means well-prepared to go appearing all over history. Upon materializing in the world a millennium earlier, Chronos had only time to take in the fact that Maxwell and her pet were evidently still standing there before his form flickered with the effort of maintaining his existence in the human realm, and he collapsed in an undoubtedly very undignified manner.

"Chronos?" gasped the pet's voice, two sets of hurried footsteps making their way over to his side, and the world trembled in Chronos's vision as he attempted to sit up and push them both away. Why hadn't they left with their friends? Had they predicted his return somehow? More importantly, how was he _ever_ going to live this down?!

Someone caught his hand, and the sensation was alien—not uncomfortable, but certainly strange. _Maxwell_, he thought hazily, staring over at her and opening his mouth to try and say something, anything, to get her to go away and leave him alone.

"Relax," ordered Maxwell, her palms encircling his, and she bowed her head and closed her eyes, apparently concentrating hard. Chronos's form obeyed as surely as if she had cast an arte; he lowered himself back to the ground as gently as possible, waiting with growing annoyance for something to happen as the seconds ticked by.

And, just when Chronos had just about had enough, happen it did. Something warm—no, _hot_—flared into existence inside him suddenly, and he sat up with a jolt, clinging to Maxwell's shoulder for support. She grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut, and the newly awakened _thing _inside him throbbed with troubling strength.

"Milla?" asked the pet's voice, concerned, and he knelt hurriedly next to them both. "Are you all right?" he continued, looking her up and down, but Chronos was distracted: the heat inside him continued its restless pulse, skipping a beat here and there. He'd heard that this was what a heartbeat was like, but this was no mass of muscle, just… pure energy…

Pure and _exquisite_ energy.

"I'm… I'm fine," managed Maxwell, though she shifted uncomfortably as she spoke, and Chronos realized with some odd self-consciousness that Jude's eyes were trained no longer on her but on _him_. "I just don't really understand, that's all," she continued. "Isn't it possible to share mana while in this form?"

Jude stared at her. "What do you mean, share mana?"

Maxwell stared right back. "I mean, _share mana_," she responded unhelpfully, getting to her feet gingerly. "As in, use my life force to make up for someone else's mana deficiency." Chronos raised a hand to his torso tentatively, feeling along his chest slowly, but it was as still as ever: whatever was happening to him wasn't a physical change (inasmuch as physics apply to spirits, of course).

Then, if whatever arte she'd cast hadn't altered his form at all, how was it possible that it could affect him to this extent—that it could cause the ripples of something like… like _pleasure_ now lapping over him periodically?

"Do you mean…" began Jude, but then shook his head. "Never mind," he mumbled, scratching his head awkwardly. "Let's just get going. The others are probably almost out of here by now." He got to his feet with a visible effort, pulling Maxwell up next to him when she gratefully took his proffered hand.

"Are you coming too?" asked Maxwell of Chronos, and he rose into the air after a brief hesitation. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be caught dead following a group of humans anywhere, but this unknown hunger… He wanted Maxwell—_needed _her—for an alarming and mysterious set of reasons.

Besides, Chronos wasn't about to turn down free mana in this condition. Best to temporarily shelve his well-earned pride and agree to go with them… until his mana was fully recharged, anyway.

By the time he came fully to his senses, Jude and Milla were already walking away, hand in hand; Chronos rushed after them, trying to pinpoint the source of the resentment stirring within them at their meaninglessly interlaced fingers. If he didn't know better, he might even say it was jealousy.

But why? He'd thrown Maxwell into the abyss between dimensions when she got in his way, and hadn't regretted it once! He _still _didn't regret it! Chronos didn't realize he was glaring at the two of them until the pet looked back, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Is something wrong?"

Maxwell turned to glance back at him, and when her eyes met his, if only briefly—_spirits_, how that globe of heat raced! Chronos couldn't help but shiver pleasantly, and he could practically hear her breath catch in return. The pet looked between the two of them, eyes narrowed; eventually, he simply kept walking, his hand slipping out of Maxwell's as he went.

"What is going on?" she murmured, walking beside Chronos as he drifted forward. "We're both Primordial Great Spirits. In theory, I should have been able to supply some of my mana to you without these… side effects."

Chronos sighed. "I wish I knew," he muttered.

Maxwell gazed up at him thoughtfully, and even though he averted his eyes this time, the heat in his core expanded and contracted suddenly regardless. Another wave of that delicious _something_ spread swiftly through him, momentarily taking away his breath. What was this feeling?

"We'll ask Muzét," decided Maxwell darkly—apparently noticing nothing similar within her own self—and marched onward. Chronos had no real choice but to follow, though he couldn't help but wonder what he was getting himself into.

* * *

><p>"Whoa, hey, what's <em>he <em>doing here?"

Chronos was hardly surprised to hear shock and negative sentiments from all directions as they arrived at the seahaven, but it didn't make him any more kindly disposed towards his ill-wishers. He'd already fought them all once; if necessary, he'd do it again, no problem. It'd be even easier given that the last Kresnik was not among them at the moment.

Except for the Maxwell conundrum…

"Muzét," she called towards her 'sister', who was busy embracing an extremely unamused Gaius some distance away. As she let go, pushed off his shoulders, and floated towards Maxwell, he straightened his tie, looking distinctly relieved, and turned to engage the old man in some conversation.

"Yes, Milla?" she asked, tilting her head and putting her hands behind her back coyly. "What can I do for you?" But as Maxwell stuttered several beginnings of an attempted response, Muzét blinked, frowned, glanced between Maxwell and Chronos—and then, eyes sparkling, she said, "Wait, wait, don't tell me…"

"Tell you _what_?" asked Maxwell, both cross and confused, and Chronos folded his arms, scowling. The last thing they needed was for the only spirit among this ragtag group of allies to play games instead of answer their questions.

Muzét positively beamed at the two of them and exclaimed, "I'm so _proud_ of you!" and threw her arms around Maxwell. Chronos would have smiled in amusement at the so-called Lord of Spirits's protests, except the sphere of energy flared up again and a tingling sensation suddenly enveloped him: he grit his teeth. It was only getting more intense as time wore on, and consequently it was becoming more difficult to keep a level head.

Especially as Muzét brought Chronos into her already incredibly awkward embrace, pressing him against Maxwell's chest, and for some reason, the proximity drove him mad. Ordinarily, something so trivial as the human senses meant little to him, but now—

He had no time to think on it, for which he was a little bit grateful. "Everyone," gushed Muzét, and Chronos noted distractedly that Maxwell was _blushing_, "my little sister's just found her first tether friend!"

Her eyes widened with panic, and Chronos could feel her heart jump through the thin fabric of her top. That in turn sparked the burst of heat again, once more accompanied by that electric feeling all over, and this time he had to choke back an involuntary utterance: Maxwell glanced up at him curiously.

"_What_?" That was the pet. "I thought—" he began, sounding both confused and a little annoyed, but cut himself off, shaking his head; Chronos wondered whether or not that had been what he was going to say earlier.

"Well, congratulations, Milla!" laughed the shady one. "Sorry, Jude," he added, clapping the pet on the shoulder and ignoring his red-faced protests. "Looks like someone else beat you to her."

"Wait, tether… what-now?" spoke up the little girl, tilting her head, and the talking doll nodded its fervent agreement. "What's that?" she added, more insistently, when no one responded.

"Oh my," remarked the old man, standing next to her and apparently suppressing dry amusement with difficulty. "Elize, I think it's high time you and Driselle had a little chat."

The girl's eyes widened, but the doll was the one to speak for her. "Wa-hey! So Milla just had—" He was promptly smacked out of the air by the other, more high-energy girl; no one seemed to have a problem with the interruption.

"With _Chronos_?" she demanded, slamming her staff into the ground with apparent fury. "Seriously, Milla?!" she added, staring with wide-eyed and dumbfounded at the two of them.

"…Right," muttered Gaius, shifting from foot to foot. "I think you both have some explaining to do, starting with why Chronos isn't sealed away with Origin anymore. How could the gate have opened again so quickly?"

Chronos rolled his eyes. "I'm the spirit of time," he snapped, glowering at the king. For being leader of what was once a planet to itself, he wasn't all that quick on the uptake. "It's not all that inconceivable that I've just come from a time when the miasma has been purifi—"

"_Chronos_," reprimanded Maxwell sharply.

"Yes, Mas—Maxwell," muttered Chronos automatically, and she raised an eyebrow: he raised his fingers to his mouth not only in lingering embarrassment, but also because the pleasant fluctuations inside him were beginning to become almost unbearable. The word he had almost said was testament to how much the sensation was beginning to mess with his head, and Chronos wholeheartedly wished he had ignored Origin's instructions for once, or at _least_ delayed his obedience.

The shady man laughed, paying no attention to Chronos's glare. "How about _Millady_?" he quipped, only for the pet to belt him in the shoulder none too lightly. "All right, all right, sheesh," he added hastily, backing up. "It was just a joke!"

There was a long silence, during which Chronos hovered awkwardly and tried not to think about Maxwell with extremely limited success. He'd never considered spirits to be influenced by infatuation as humans were, but this was undeniably attraction of one variety or another—an inexplicable desire to serve her.

"I was just trying to share some of my mana with him because he was half-dead when he showed up," explained Maxwell somewhat defensively, rearranging herself into what seemed like a battle stance; Muzét drifted mercifully away from the two of them. "I must have accidentally direct-tethered with him instead, since I've taken a human form."

The pet sighed restlessly. "But you seem like you're in pain," he pressed. "And Muzét never hurt me when we were…" He trailed off, unable to meet anyone's eyes, and Chronos smirked.

"It only aches a little," Maxwell assured him. "If I'd succeeded in giving him mana the way I had originally intended, it would have hurt a lot more. This is more… gradual. Probably because I'm both a spirit and a human, for the purposes of tethering." She paused. "Besides, it doesn't feel _all _bad," she added thoughtfully, glancing sideways at Chronos—who wondered if she could feel the same pulsations, and how in the world she was keeping so quiet about them.

Muzét smiled dreamily, floating horizontally and kicking her legs slowly in midair. "So, Chronos," she giggled, "is Milla _your_ first tether friend, too?" He stared at her, annoyance at her detached attitude becoming rage. Such impudence from a fellow spirit! How dare she assume—

"I have never seen the value in whoring my artes out to humans," growled Chronos, glancing at the pet and Gaius pointedly before meeting Muzét's unperturbed eyes again. "You have no idea the sheer number of ridiculous appeals I hear for me to change this or that in their pasts." He shook his head. "If I lent my power to people, they would misuse it. The Kresniks are proof of that."

The shady man laughed. "So use protection or pull out of the situation before they can actually use your artes," he grinned, crossing his arms, and Chronos tossed him a confused frown. This time it was the staff-girl's time to hit him—poking him in the diaphragm, hard, though Chronos had no idea why such a measure was necessary.

"Protection," mused Maxwell, looking to her pet for help.

"Forget about it, Milla," he sighed, shaking his head fervently. "It's just Alvin."

Maxwell nodded understandingly, though Chronos was still incredibly confused—not that it mattered much in light of the greater mystery about his condition. "So, Chronos," she began, and his eyes widened as he felt the beginnings of another, more powerful wave of energy stirring inside him. "Are you feeling any better?"

Chronos tore his gaze away from her, panicking slightly. What would he say? 'Yes', and risk breaking the connection and abandoning this newfound, half-emotional pleasure—or 'no', and risk seeming weak? But he didn't have to say anything; Muzét wafted forward and examined him, altogether too close for his tastes, and pronounced, "Close. He'll be completely recharged soon."

"Recharged," repeated Maxwell, and Chronos shuddered as the core of heat positively vibrated with energy. It had been due to a simple miscalculation, overestimating his abilities after a millennium of suffering, that he had exhausted himself; he hadn't asked for this! But then, now that he knew what he had been missing—_would _he have asked…?

"All his mana will be restored," clarified Muzét dreamily. "I can't wait to see how he'll react!" she added, giving a distinctly unnerving smile, and Chronos glanced around uncertainly at his audience. Something urged him to get away while there was still time, and he could restore the rest of his mana on his own—but… this sensation… it felt like it was building up to something, and he wanted to know _what_.

Gaius raised his eyebrows as though something just occurred to him. "Muzét," he said, simultaneously awkwardly and urgently. "You _don't_ mean—"

Muzét giggled. "Why, yes I do," she responded suggestively. "It never happened with Jude, you know—too short a time to really get to know one another. You're the first to ever make me…" But Gaius had already turned on his heel and was stalking towards the inn; Muzét looked crestfallen, but followed him anyway. (Chronos made a mental note that if anyone was absolutely incapable of taking a hint, it was her.)

The old man barely hid a smile behind a dignified hand. "Ah, to be young again," he sighed reminiscently. "Come along, Miss Elize. I think we've seen all we ought to." He took her hand and led her somewhat forcefully away, though her eyes were still lit with somewhat childish curiosity; the talking doll voiced her annoyance for her.

"If it's not Milla that's getting 'recharged' here, I'm thinking I don't need to see this either," muttered the shady one, seizing the elbows of the pet and the other remaining girl. "I'm out. Have fun, kids," he added to Maxwell and Chronos with a very obvious wink, dragging his younger charges away.

"Milla!" called the pet, somewhat desperately.

"Don't do anything stupid!" added the other girl anxiously. "Promise!"

"I'll be fine!" returned Maxwell, sounding somewhat amused. "I'll see you both soon," she added, turning back towards Chronos, who inhaled sharply. Even her voice… This time, the vibrations hadn't completely disappeared. A buzz remained inside him, tickling him lightly, making it impossible to think clearly.

There was a long silence, during which Maxwell observed his expression (he refused to look at her) and, when she finally asked, "Does it hurt?", Chronos's first instinct was to laugh. _Does it hurt? _Of all the things in the world that might be considered painful, this was about the last on the list.

"No," he replied distantly, and made the mistake of looking down at her to meet her eyes. He gasped involuntarily, the core throbbing harder suddenly, and he breathlessly struggled to maintain some semblance of control over himself. And then Maxwell's hands were steadying him by the arms, and she was saying something to him insistently, and _oh_, the feel of her touch and the sound of her voice—

_The more contact they had, the stronger it was._

And by some insane impulse which Chronos fully attributed to the loss of his right mind under a number of mitigating circumstances (and not at _all_ due to an underlying curiosity towards the ways in which humans chose to spend the time he gave them—including mating rituals), he seized her shoulders and pressed his mouth violently against hers. As Chronos slid a hand around her waist to yank her closer still, the core seemed to expand, agonizingly slowly, to fill his entire form; he could no longer suppress an unconscious vocalization in the back of his throat.

Maxwell finally recovered herself enough to bite him, pull away, and punch him in the jaw. While Chronos reeled, deliriously hovering between pain and pleasure, she grasped both his horns and forced him to his knees with indignation blazing in her eyes: as the strange heat enveloped Chronos completely, permeating his every particle, all his strength was replaced by ecstasy. His form flickered between the realms, and such was the difficulty of bearing it all silently that he no longer cared whether anyone—human or spirit—heard his half-tortured cry.

The heat dissipated gradually along with its incessant motion, leaving behind only a sense of somewhat exhausted peace and relief. Chronos finally looked up at her, eyes watering, to find that her fury had ebbed away in favor of guarded curiosity. "That was it, wasn't it?" she asked quietly, releasing his horns abruptly, though he remained kneeling.

Chronos nodded hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he said haltingly, catching his breath. "That was…"

"Out of line," agreed Maxwell, crossing her arms. "Though I suppose I can forgive you, just this once… but only because your existence is integral to the balance of the universe." She smiled dangerously, and Chronos swallowed dryly as she looked down at him. "Do it again, and I'll banish you to the abyss."

"Understood," croaked Chronos, and Maxwell turned and stormed away.

Propelling himself into the air as he stared after her, Chronos managed a wry half-smile. Now that he was beginning to regain his mental faculties along with his mana, everything made sense. Origin had tried for so long to tell him that tethering would bring him closer to humanity, and that getting along with Maxwell would bring only good; moreover, he never would have ordered Chronos to the past if he hadn't thought there would be some way of recharging his mana there—

As the puzzle clicked together, Chronos spun his imaginary clock forward vehemently. He had a few questions to ask his friend…


End file.
